Cruel Kisses (It's Just High School #2) - Thandiwe Mpofu Page 0,63

seat with my heart in my throat. For some reason, I don’t want to go. It’s like Palos Verdes has a ball and chain around both my legs and I’m dragging myself out and so far, it’s been painful.

We get ready to take off and as I try to find some kind of comfort in the damn economic seat, I see movement from the corner of my eye.

When I turn fully to look at my older neighbor, he’s unbuckled, sitting at the edge of his seat, counting a wad of hundred-dollar bills as a dark, intimidating figure stands over him.

No… It can’t be.

My heart starts racing when I see his hands clenching and unclenching, like he’s literally fighting to hold himself back.

No, no, no…

I want to scream. I want to look up and confirm that it’s him, but I don’t, holding on to the fact that this might be random. That it might not be who I think it is, but who travels with that much cash on him, unless they’re like me, running away from shit covered in thick darkness?

I’m so nervous and out of breath, too cowardly to check.

“It’s all there, unless of course your greedy ass wants more,” the voice growls so low, it literally kick starts my heart. It’s him.

I snap my head up to look at him and immediately my eyes clash right into his smoldering gaze.

Dark, turbulent green to frightened, tear filled blue.

Oh God.

“Get the fuck up and go,” he grits out, anger darkening his eyes further until the green disappears.

I’ve only ever seen Julian angry like this twice before but right now, the way he’s holding himself back, it’s got a murderous intent to it. I bet my last dollar that I’m one of the poor souls he wants to get rid of.

He doesn’t look away from me for even a second as he speaks, but his tersely worded command hits its target.

The older man gets up with an embarrassed look on his face and quietly takes his suit jacket and his carry-on as well as his wad of bloody cash and walks away knowing damn well that he’s a pimp. I mean, it’s like he just sold me on the black market to an angry, sexy as hell man who holds my shattered heart and soul hostage and as our gazes hold and lock, I swear he will be the death of me.

Julian shrugs off his black coat, still watching me and hangs it where my treacherous ex-neighbor had hung his suit jacket. I watch as he pulls up the sleeves of his black hoodie, exposing his muscular forearms. I hold my breath, taking in the way he looks, like dark knight, here not to save me but to end me.

His gaze drops down to my lips for a long second, his nostrils flaring. My heart beats in sync with the ticking of his jaw, then he looks up into my eyes again, stealing my breath away.

Say something. Why won’t he say something?

The air crackles between us as the energy shifts and expands like the surge of electricity about to shock us to death.

From the corner of my eye, I notice other passengers around us glancing at us, like they can also feel the mounting tension so thick, you can slice it seven ways to hell with a sharp, butcher’s knife.

How apt though; Julian’s stare is shredding me up with the knife lodged at my side from all the times I’ve been gutted by everyone in my life, including him.

“Mr. Fitzgerald, please take your seat sir, we’re about to take off.”

Julian glances at the flight attendant, giving her a withering look that makes her gasp and take a step back. If I wasn’t shocked and frozen in my seat, I would have said something about how Julian’s horns were showing, but I can’t speak.

I have no idea why I’m so tongue-tied, but I am.

I think back to everything that happened from the moment I left the hotel. Was he following me all along? Did he know I was leaving? But how?

I’m seated, frozen in my seat really, holding his gaze, feeling like I’m going to burst into tears of frustration. I don’t need trouble. I don’t need all this. I just need some peace.

I tug at the sleeves of my hoodie, the need to run and hide so powerful, I have no choice but to hang on to the anger so as soon as he sits, I make it a point to